Our Love is Intense But Far from Pure
by Rose Midnight Moonlight Black
Summary: I would ask something of you. Is this a game? - Only a Wayne can truly love a Wayne - (Contains Waynecest - Damian Wayne/Helena Wayne Tallant Al Ghul/Terry McGinnis)
1. Ask and it is Yours

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Inspired by quotes from The Borgias (2011)**

 **Warning: Damian Wayne/Helena Wayne, Waynecest/Incest**

* * *

 **Our Love is intense... but Far from Pure**

 _"I would ask something of you."_

"Ask and it is yours…"

 _"I would ask you to marry me…"_

"As you wish."

\- The Borgias (2011)

 _ **Ask and it is Yours…**_

"Would you marry me, Damian?"

He'd like to say it was a surprising question, or perhaps even random but it was not. He had heard far stranger enquires – and offered his own bizarre ones in return – while they had lay together chastely in the dark hours before. More often than not, waiting for the dawn, to replace their masks and venture out. Just _them_.

"Of course, sister."

She huffed, sitting up to glare at him. She had heard the amusement thinly veil beneath his deadpan reply. She could read him like no one else could. He was an open book for her perusal and curiosity. And she was a weapon, an ornate and deadly blade to be admired and polished. To draw blood.

"I'm serious, brother, would you? _Habibti_ _._ "

She drew her fingers across his neck, tracing his jugular with familiarity.

"In a heartbeat, my Hela, Ya Rouhi. A heartbeat … if it were not illegal." He shifted, all the better to watching her watching him.

There was a look in her eyes; a look they both know was restricted only to them, a look only a Wayne could fathom. A look of impossible made real. He knew it intimately.

He adored it. He mirrored it. Her.

"Laws can be circumvented."

She said it so simply. Because it was. The law had never applied to them. Never. Only their creativity and daring was a restriction.

He laughed. His chest rising and falling in gasps as she moved to rest there, her long raven tresses fanning out over him. She always tried to make him laugh; he only wanted her to smile.

"True, but I do not think our family would feel the same _,_ _Mia amata sorella_ _._ " He whispered in her ear, lip brushing soft cartilage.

"What family?"

And people said he was cruel. They forget his sister capacity for stark reality.

"I'm sure somewhere Grayson is crying his heart out. Or breaking out in a cold sweat." he drawled, running a hand through her hair. Soft and silky.

She smirked, turning to burrow into him, "undoubtedly."

She enjoyed the rare affection, curling around his chest like an over grown kitten. She craved it. He petted her hair and wondered abstractly if she might purr. He should discourage her, discourage _this_ but she was so warm and comfortable to stop.

He hummed, "I would marry you, because there is no one in this world like you. No one I could match more. You are my equal, my other half."

He meant every word. There was no woman to rival the one in his arms. It was a simple fact. No warrior queen could match this dark, devious princess of his.

She turned over, her eyes meeting his, "And I'd marry you, because there is no one in the world I could trust more. You cannot love what you do not trust."

He frowned, a heavier weigh that Helena setting upon his heart, "Trust is for lesser people, Ya Amar. And the dead."

"I know." She leant forwards, her lips brushing his gently, "But I trust you."

He turned away. She pulled back, resting her head over his heart.

"I love you."

"I know."

* * *

 **Habibi – beloved**

 **Ya Rouhi – you are my soul**

 **Mia amata sorella – my beloved sister**


	2. Is this a Game?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

 **Warning: Tallant Al Ghul/Terry McGinnis, Waynecest/Incest**

* * *

 **Our Love is intense... but Far from Pure**

" _Is this a game?"_

" **A game of want and wanting."**

 **"I feel unloved - "**

" - _Positively foolish."_

" **You look but don't touch…"**

 _"I will make you happy. I promise."_

\- The Borgias (2011)

 _ **Is this a Game?**_

" _Is this a game?"_

The unexpected question would not leave him. It reverberated through his mind, echoed in his every step. The whole night. Chasing him.

" _Is_ this _a_ _game?"_

Just when he believed he had escaped, it came back again. It would not release him.

" _Is this a_ game?"

Tallant gasped, leaning over to catch his breath. How long had he been running through Gotham? It had been dark then and now the sky was full of jewel-like colours. Dawn. A while off but still. How long had he been running?

Long enough to lose Batman in the rabbit's warren of alleys and overpasses. If Batman had cared to even give chase in the first place….

" _Is this a game?"_

Straightening up, Tallant tried to orientate himself in his mental map of Gotham. He had, unusually, allowed his feet to take him away, simply away, for the conflict. Anywhere else. He wasn't a coward, the fight had already been long lost to Batman before he had… before _Terry_ had turned to him and caught him off guard….

"… _.Tali?"_

Why did he do that? Tallant thought, something warm and energetic – anger – rising up inside him. Why did he cast the masks aside? Why did he have to ask?

He started walking, moving in the fading shadows.

Why couldn't his _akhi al-habibi_ just forget himself for a little while? The fight had been so much fun, even losing hadn't spoiled the hum in Tallant's veins. To see his baby brother _fight_ , to see him _move_ , hear him laugh, to be so close….

" _Is this a game? ...Tali?"_

He asked but didn't care even follow. A shiver ran down his spine to hear his name fall from Terry's lips. But Batman didn't pursue, had turned away, let him escape.

Glancing around, he cursed loudly when he realised exactly where he had brought himself.

…But why would he chase, when Tallant always came back to him in the end?

Even from the ground, he could tell Terry's window was closed but the curtains were open. There was no movement inside, no sign of life. Had he returned home already and was resting? Had his attention been drawn elsewhere, away from…

Tallant bit his lip as a truly bad idea crossed it.

" _Is this a game?"_

The window was unlocked, and it was unsettling easy to climb up to it. Far too dangerous, any one could break in. Perhaps it was his brother's own good that it was him and not someone with more lascivious intentions.

It was worth it for the look on Terry's face. Like a rabbit that had spotted a wolf, he froze on the windowsill, wide eyed and chest stilled. Tallant stretched out on the bed, the bulk of his armour and gear strewn across the floor. It was late, after all. And Terry's bed was surprisingly comfortable, if solitary.

The young knight slid into the room like a shadow, closing it behind him. The curtains were closed too, blocking out the city behind them. Tallant propped himself up on his arms, in time to watch Terry remove his mask. Then with crooked eyebrow, his utility belt too.

The young man bit his lip but pushed Tallant's leg out the way and sat down on the bed to remove his boots.

"Do I want to know why you are here, Tali? If you're here to kidnap me, at least wait till I've slept."

Tallant just took the moment to watch his beloved little brother slowly remove his armour, piece by piece, leaving just Terry and Tallant behind. He waited for Terry to look at him, to meet his eyes in a pointed look. Did Terry really not know how much power he had over his helpless older brother? As if Tallant had been able to resist him, the first moment they meet –albeit on the wrong side the battlefield.

"Is this a game?"

Tallant wished his voice didn't croak, but he needed to know the answer.

Terry paused. Then he turned towards him, crawling along the bed until they were even. It burned Tallant to feel him so close.

The younger man tilted his head, "I don't know, Tali. What is this to you?"

"You didn't chase me."

"I didn't think you'd want me too." Terry paused, then continued so softly, "You look but you don't touch…"

Tallant couldn't help himself; he reached across and ran his fingers through Terry's hair, brushing it from his eyes.

"Am I so hard to love?" Terry whispered.

Tallant tightened his grasp, "No, no, habibi, never."

Terry leant into it, closing his eyes. He was so tense and tired looking. So sad…

"I will make you happy." He promised, pushing forwards till their foreheads meet.

Terry smiled bitterly, wrapping his own hand around the back of Tallant's neck.

"This is a game of want and wanting."

* * *

 **Akhi Al-Habibi – Beloved Little Brother**


End file.
